Some very well-meaning friends sometimes generously invite me at their own expense to accompany them for a whole day to a large oval expanse surrounded by seating and even a few overhead viewing rooms which they sometimes manage to acquire the use of and where they want to ply me with all manner of snacks and cold frothy beverages.
They even invite me to go to such fields as far away as Johannesburg and Durban, but each time I have to excuse myself.... I have this problem you see....
I am trying to run my little business and I can never have a whole day off so that I can just sit still and watch guys all dressed in white standing around for whole day out in the sun... Then one guy runs and makes twisting movements with his arms to throw a leather covered wooden ball towards a guy with a funny-shaped plank who tries to whack it really hard so that the rest of the guys can chase after it.
So once in a while something seemingly exciting happens that I can never seem to see. I know it is something important because everybody throws their hands up in the air while an old chap scratches his beard with one hand and with the other hand he points a finger in the air. Maybe he is testing the wind direction or something and makes his mind up about what should happen next according to that.
From where I can see, for all I know, it could be his middle finger he is holding up in the air. After all... Why else would these guys around me be calling it a dismissal?
Sometimes the old chap waits for someone who sits just as high up as us, who probably just like us can see bugger-all, to signal to him whether he should hold both his arms up high in the air pointing to some distant cloud, or whether he should heavily swing his right arm across his chest doing something close to what could be a mock nazi salute.
Immediately after that everyone around me will start arguing about something which I know for a fact none of them could have seen because their eyes were all on the scantily clad lass serving them drinks.
By mid-afternoon they are all drunk as skunks and the arguments have turned to rugby, boxing and which is the best 4x4. Some of them can’t even remember who they came to watch...
There’s a whole buzz in the stadium suite untill someone remembers the big screen up on the wall which they all seem to have forgotten shows the match live with all the replays...
One of them becomes irritated when he sees that everyone now has their eyes fixed to the TV: “We could have done this at my house and I could braai for you ouens...”, at which point a new argument about who has the best braai techniques starts in all earnesty and the TV is an ornament once again....
The rest of the people around the oval expanse start clearing out... None of these fools have realised that the game is over...
I appreciate their gesture but Jiminy Cricket! This darn thing goes on for a whole bloody day and sometimes they invite me to sit and watch it five days in a row!!!
Blimey... Five Days? It's just not cricket of them to expect that of me...